


Lineout

by Zanbaby



Category: ALL OUT!! - Amase Shiori (Anime & Manga)
Genre: (ew i hate that but), Anal Sex, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Omorashi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Size Difference, Smut, Spit As Lube, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanbaby/pseuds/Zanbaby
Summary: Ebumi makes the mistake of taunting Zanba before a match and comes away a little too full of other things to be full of himself anymore~





	Lineout

**Author's Note:**

> hmm,, yeah merry christmas kids,,, (∩｀v´)⊃━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

 

The team have gradually come to notice over the past few months that Gion is as fearless as he is short. Their aspiring forward could pretty much befriend anyone, _including_ the Ryoin giant, Zanba and their twin flankers.

 

So here they are on their Sunday morning at an open field between grounds.

 

Nobody quite knew how he'd had managed to bargain for this, but for what either group of boys could tell there would be no harm in a friendly, off-the-record match while the weather is nice.

 

Both teams are missing members, for Ryoin most importantly their own captain, but it's no surprise he wasn't invited to the match given that the younger boys prioritise pissing him off over anything else.

 

Kokuto speaks on behalf of the team, and assigns BL-kun the duty of being ref just to make Sekito stop complaining about having to play with him.

 

With no coaches or supervisors it's a messy start. Mutsumi and Kokuto being the only competent pair to represent either side try to assemble their rowdy teams and work where they'll need substitutes.

 

Sekizan stands beside his vice captain holding his wrist with the opposite hand coyly. For some reason he's gone all shy again.

 

It takes some time for the boys to wake up given that today they'd normally be at home. It appears most of Jinko still is and so they end up borrowing a handful of Ryoin's B string that were serious enough to show up today.

 

Speaking of which, Jinko's own turnout is rather a surprising mix. The lack of Matsuo isn't too unexpected given that he works on weekends to help out his family, but they're missing quite a few of their forwards too.

 

The third-year seems to be the branch most lacking, though in an odd twist of habit, the resident yankii is _actually_ here today, as is their surly fly-half who normally will avoid extensive extracurricular activities at all costs.

 

Perhaps just neither of them had anything to do today.

 

They're left to their own devices for a while as the captains try to organise themselves and agree on who they're going to substitute their missing persons for. Without supervision however, it's not long before trouble starts to raise its bleach blond head.

 

Ebumi, as cocky as ever, seems to think of it as a harmless feat to taunt the Ryoin ace as he sits on a bench with his hood up and one leg crossed over a powerful thigh.

 

Likely because neither Ise nor Matsuo are around to curb his impulses, the delinquent has lost all perception of danger.

 

"O'ho, scary~ see ya' been practisin' that death glare— what? You wanna' kill us?" the blond goads, talking a big game for himself but staying a comfortable few feet away from the giant just in case.

 

"I've got somethin' for ya' to destroy, if ya' can catch it," he alludes, turning his back on the scrum-half and posing with a hand on his hip to accentuate his ass, letting his tongue loll out the side of his mouth as he cranes his head over his shoulder.

 

Zanba appears disengaged; as if he didn't even hear a word of the yankii's trash-talk drivel, but he smirks the tiniest bit when the boy is confidently walking away, not letting him know that his challenge has been wholly accepted.

 

Within the first few minutes there's too much stopping and starting thanks to Mikado trying his hardest to give undue penalties to his own team.

 

It's agreed between them that they need an unbiased ref, so for the most part it'll do to just ignore him.

 

Frustrated by the constant interruptions and not having had his hands on the ball once, Ebumi forgets that all this time he'd been watching out for Zanba.

 

As any apex predator would notice, therein lies the perfect opportunity to attack, and Zanba has been waiting patiently for the chance by deceiving Ebumi with his disinterest until now.

 

He sees Ebumi leap for a kick from Oharano, and just before he lands, the number nine is charging toward him.

 

Zanba crashes into Ebumi, hitting so hard he tackles the blond right off the pitch, but rather than letting him ricochet to the ground he embraces him.

 

To anyone else it might be considered thoughtful given that Ebumi is going to land on his back and might otherwise hurt his head if not for Zanba's hand cradling it protectively.

 

The real reason isn't anything so noble of course. Zanba couldn't care less if Ebumi split his head open on landing; he holds him close because he wants to feel the blond's sudden boner against his thigh.

 

Ebumi succeeds in casting the ball away but is unfortunately launched too quickly across the line for it to be a safe pass. Regardless, he's more concerned with bracing himself for a harsh impact, making a precautionary sound before he's even sure if it hurts or not.

 

In the momentary blackout from Zanba's body colliding with his, it takes him a second to get his bearings. He hears the sounds of his teammates as someone appears to have recovered his haphazard pass and gone for a try.

 

When he opens his eyes afterwards though, he realises he didn't hit the ground, but is in fact cocooned in the giant's arms.

 

Ebumi grunts and tries to free himself without a thank you; he wouldn't dare show aggression to someone like Zanba, least of all in such close proximity where he actually has physical power over him, but he does snap at the scrum-half when his order to be released is ignored.

 

"Oi, I said I'm fine ya' big freak! Get the fuck off me!"

 

Zanba sighs and shifts himself onto his huge arms that bracket Ebumi's comparably narrow looking shoulders. He lets a curious knee slide up between the blond's thighs next, as if he's offering a perch for the tiny winger to sit on.

 

"Don't you feel safer with me over you like this, little one?" Zanba croons.

 

"Wouldn't want your teammates to see what's happened to you, would you?" he adds suggestively, alerting Ebumi to the tent in his shorts.

 

The winger sneers out of embarrassment, his face flushing red up to his ears under his scrum-cap.

 

"Jus'... get the fuck off me," he weakly retorts, attempting to push Zanba aside. It's highly ineffective, and the giant stays put, his own hand snaking down to Ebumi's crotch and tugging his shorts away from his hips.

 

"Though... you said I could have something to destroy if I could catch it, didn't you?"

 

Ebumi snarls, his pupils shrinking into almost nothing so only the whites of his eyes are visible as he swerves his hips in a vain attempt to prevent the Ryoin ace from unclothing him.

 

In truth, he hadn't counted on Zanba retaliating _right here_. In fact he'd been so self-assured in his speed that he didn't think the lumbering giant would have the sense to utilise his blind-spots.

 

A lesson learned. Though seemingly brainless, Zanba is just as much a strategist as he is a force of brute strength, and Ebumi won't forget either of those things anytime soon.

 

"Don't fuss now, don't fuss, let me take care of it," Zanba insists calmly.

 

For him it's like undressing a baby doll; Ebumi is no challenge to dominate, and Zanba isn't concerned with being gentle, either.

 

Ebumi's hands can't scramble fast enough, and by the time they're clutching for the receding hem of his shorts, they're already around his ankles and Zanba's huge hand is in his underwear palming him.

 

"F- _fuck_!" Ebumi pants, still gritting his teeth but failing not to close his eyes as a soft gasp escapes him from the pleasure of having something to rub his needy cock against.

 

"That's it, little one," Zanba encourages.

 

"Yer' a goddamn pervert!" the winger grunts, practically seating himself in Zanba's hand as he protests the actions as if there weren't his own.

 

"Oh? But who's the one begging for it?"

 

"I ain't beggin'!" Ebumi barks.

 

"You aren't telling me to stop, though," Zanba points out, pausing to see how Ebumi will react to the loss of the stimulant.

 

"Well?" he goads.

 

"Fuck you!" Ebumi declares after a squeamish moment of eye-contact. His cheeks are a furious shade of red, but his hips haven't retreated an inch and continue to thrust his achy cock into Zanba's relaxed hand.

 

"That's what I thought... you're such a feisty little thing," he smiles grimly.

 

For someone whose movements are so great and heavy, as if slowed down in time, Zanba sure is quick to perch Ebumi's legs on his hips and slip both of their pants down.

 

His idea of preparation is little more than two quick fingers to giveaway to a cock the breadth of five, but it's so heat-of-the-moment that again, Ebumi is only just finding his bearings in time to see Zanba lining up between his thighs.

 

"No! That's too fuckin' big, no way fuck y— _nnh_!"

 

It shouldn't take so little to tantalise him, but even just a swift drag of his hand around Ebumi's dick to squeeze some precome out of him is enough to make the winger wince.

 

The blond opens his eyes again and pants, frowning when he's met with Zanba's outstretched hand.

 

"Not enough. Spit on it."

 

Ebumi looks him up and down with a repulsed sneer and shakes his head.

 

"Spit. Or I'll go in dry." 

 

Foolish though he is, this definitely frightens Ebumi into obedience, but he tries to make the opportunity worth its salt by hacking up a huge glob of saliva and spitting aggressively into Zanba's palm.

 

Unfased by the vulgarity, Zanba adds his spit too, then slicks his cock with the mixture and lines up again.

 

Ebumi breaths in, about to object, but Zanba just grins doggedly as he has it his way.

 

His dick trawls along Ebumi's underprepared canal like a cruise-liner cutting through solid ice.

 

"Ah! _Ow_! That's— _fuck_! It's too fuckin'... it's too much!" the eleven sobs deliriously, smacking Zanba's shoulders in frustration as an issue to relent, but being the first to concede.

 

He tries to relax instead; accepting his fate and letting his head meet the earth beneath him as his scrum-cap slips off to reveal the extent of his blush.

 

The whistle blows to inform those actually still playing that Jinko just scored a try, but by the time the ball is live again all eyes are on the two huddled by the sidelines.

 

"What the actual fuck are they doing?" Oharano grumbles to the timid giant beside him.

 

"Really? Right here?" Iwashimizu whimpers with secondhand embarrassment, covering his eyes ashamedly.

 

"Sekizan, that's— um— we should—" Mutsumi cuts himself off when he glances over to see Sekizan has turned as red as his hair, grinding his teeth in a manner that's hard to discern from fury or humiliation.

 

"Oi, shouldn't you stop him?" Gion wonders nonchalantly, watching with his arms folded across his chest as he stands near Kokuto.

 

Dumbstruck, the Ryoin vice captain just blinks and agrees with a hum, though doesn't take action at all.

 

At this point Sekito is next to saunter over, but his attention is directed at Mikado, who has the whistle hanging off his bottom lip as, like the majority of boys, he is just stood staring.

 

"That... actually, that was a lineaout," he murmurs.

 

"Bet this isn't the first guy-on-guy action he's seen," the ashen-haired boy jokes morbidly.

 

"God, it's like they're gawking at animals in a zoo," he tuts with apparent distaste.

 

"Stop watchin', ya' pieces of shit! I'll kill all of you!" Ebumi snarls through tears of embarrassment.

 

He doesn't need to uncover his eyes to _know_ he's being watched. It's just as well he doesn't, too, since realising the object of everyone's focus is actually Zanba would only serve a fatal blow to what's left of his ego.

 

The giant thrusts slowly; not by choice but by the restriction of Ebumi's tight asshole pulling back on his dick whenever he tries to draw out.

 

He's barely breaking a sweat, but even just the glimpse of his tan thighs and the muscles working beneath the skin as he makes a little cum sock out of Ebumi is enough to alight stirring fantasies across the pitch.

 

Anyone would be forgiven by this point for having a boner, Mutsumi in fact seems almost grateful to note that even their stoic captain is tugging helplessly at the fabric around his crotch.

 

Raita, though keeping back, is the first to actively respond with a hand down the front of his pants, but no one's looking his way regardless and if Ebumi could be grateful about anything right now, it would be that Noka isn't here, or else there'd be more eyes than those present watching him being ploughed.

 

Zanba has managed to set a pace now; it's a clear and valiant effort too given that it's not like poor Ebumi can lubricate himself. This is nothing but sheer power and a driving force to fuck the little yankii as hard as he can.

 

It's carnal and brutal, and in-spite of the indecency, there isn't a single guy present not thinking about being where Ebumi is right now.

 

The blond has given up on trying to keep a hard face. He's limp as a wilted lettuce leaf, gathering grass-stains up his shirt as he's rocked back and forth along the ground.

 

He's drooling and crying; a substance leaking from every orifice with only the strength to grunt and groan and _grip_ at Zanba's jersey.

 

"Stop-fuck-ing-me-so-hard-I'm-gu-na-piss~" he moans lucidly, a heave between every breath as the air is fucked right out of him quicker than he can inhale it.

 

He lifts his head and stiffens up when he realises his own warning is rather more genuine than he first considered.

 

"Zan— Zanba... I'm serious ya' big dumb freak! I'm gunna' fuckin'—"

 

It's evident the second the ruthless giant locks eyes with him and stares him into submission that he's not going to get a bathroom break at a time like this.

 

Ebumi tears up again and presses his lips together as he lets his head fall back for another moment.

 

He's really going to piss himself while getting fucked in front of everyone. It's too hubris to even take seriously.

 

And of course at the worst possible time, he starts to peak.

 

Zanba huffs with a smile. He knows what it means for Ebumi to be baring down on him like that. He knows _exactly_ why his calves are squeezing fruitlessly around his thick neck.

 

"You're going to come, little one~?" he presumes wickedly. His soulless eyes laughing quietly at the state of the mouthy winger beneath him.

 

"No," Ebumi retorts, "I'm gunna' piss myself ya'— _ah_!"

 

Not that Zanba needed the encouragement, but it's enough to tell him now is the right time to fuck even harder up toward Ebumi's bladder.

 

The blond cries out; that was just self-sabotage to tell him such a thing, he realises.

 

"I'm serious! I'm gunna'—"

 

It hits him all at once when the overbearing urge to pee starts to run alongside the imminent fact he's about to come, and when the two happen at once, Ebumi can only yell and hope it'll somehow make the whole thing less indignant.

 

His cum jets out and spatters his lower abdomen right up to the neck of his jersey, but he keeps pissing even after his orgasm, and then deigns to lay there looking like a used condom.

 

The force behind Zanba unloading himself into Ebumi is enough to make his back arch and his stomach swill.

 

He moans feebly as the last few thrusts certify that Zanba has finished; the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin that has the gormless voyeurs twitching in their jock straps.

 

With a relieved exhale Ebumi stares off in disarray as his arms land outstretched beside him like he's roadkill.

 

"What the fuck... _what the fuck_ ," he murmurs, not a question just a statement of disbelief.

 

He can't control the trembling, but it's finally something that has Zanba taking pity on him.

 

"Are you embarrassed, little one? Embarrassed that you made such a mess?" the scrum-half coos. The sound couldn't really be called sympathetic, but it gives Ebumi another chill for being talked down to.

 

"Don't worry, it happens. If it would make you feel better, I'll do it too," Zanba offers.

 

Ebumi doesn't respond outloud as he meant to, but just as he's asking, 'what?' he receives an answer anyway.

 

The sensation of a second amount of fluid filling him makes his eyes go wide and his fingernails curl into the grass raking dirt up underneath them.

 

Zanba didn't mean he was going to balance out their indignity by peeing in front of everyone; he's not even going to leave Ebumi's ass to do it.

 

He pulls out with a clean, swift exit then, shaking himself off onto Ebumi's belly and rocking back onto his heels from a kneeling position, straight up onto his feet before tucking himself back into his shorts.

 

His teammates part fearfully as he saunters onto the pitch, ready to resume play. Everyone else is stock-still, not even daring to mutter amongst themselves about what they just witnessed.

 

"Get up when you feel like it, little one. If you can still run from me, it'd be my pleasure to catch you again," Zanba says candidly, taking the ball from a reanimated yet very wary Mikado.

 

Eyes glance nervously over at Ebumi as they watch the subdued little yankii getting shakily to his feet like a newborn deer. Unsurprisingly he skulks away, cursing as he retreats to the showers to regain some gall and douche himself angrily.

 

"Resume play!" Zanba demands, and though slow to do so, the boys gradually get moving again, trying to fight the tightness in their pants the whole time.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ,,, i have so many complaints & things to say for myself about this but i've made my fuckin bed so asdfghfjgdyj


End file.
